Shepherds of the Trees, Guides of the Little Folk
by iarwainbenadar
Summary: Set in the Second Age, roughly around the same time as the Downfall of Numenor. Deals with the question of what happened to the Entwives...
1. Chapter 1

Olo Harfoot yawned and rubbed his eyes. The bright rays of the sun were just peeking through the trees, piercing deep into his eyes. Sleepily, he put up a hand to shield himself from the harsh sunlight.

He sat up and stretched, groaning as he tried to work out the crick in his neck. Tree roots did not make the most comfortable of pillows. A sudden grumble from his stomach told him that it was almost time for breakfast, and he remembered he had not eaten supper the night before. The rest of the tribe would be waking soon, and he did not have much to offer them at his return. He grimaced as he glanced at the pitifully small collection of mushrooms, berries and seeds that was supposed to sustain them for the next three days. They'd be lucky if it stretched to one, he thought with a sigh.

"It's not my fault," he grumbled to himself. "Nothing grows in Autumn."Yet he knew in his heart that they would not understand. After all, his brother Marroc had brought home a whole boar the other week - just a little newborn of course, fully grown boars were far too big for even the biggest of the Little People to hunt - but still, meat was a VERY rare luxury for folk as small as the Little People. It had to be caught, after all, and there were very few animals small enough for Little People to catch. Most of the time, their focus was much more centred on trying to escape being caught themselves. Still, Marroc had done it, and now everyone would expect Olo to bring something substantial back as well. _A hopeless endeavour_, he thought, letting out another heavy sigh.

"The day is yet young for such mournful, despairing sighs," came a loud, booming voice from behind him. Startled, he scurried away from the tree he had slept under, where the voice seemed to be coming from.

"Why do you run in such haste?" the voice asked in surprise. "I am very sorry if I startled you. I rarely meet anyone with whome I can have a proper conversation". The voice was loud and strong, yet also feminine.

Odo realised, with a start, that the voice was in fact coming from the tree itself. High up in the trunk, two blue eyes looked down at him with a friendly gaze. Suddenly, the bits of gnarled bark that seemed to be the tree's eyebrows wrinkled in curiosity. "What exactly are you?" the tree murmured (if it is in fact possible for a voice so loud to 'murmur').

"I might ask you the same thing!" Olo squeaked, still not fully recovered from the shock of being spoken to by a giant talking tree. Then, with a slightly embarassed look on his face and with a deeper, more manly voice: "I mean...men call us Little People. We know no other species which have words with which to give us names. All other creatures we have come across are unable to speak."

"Yes, that has mostly been my experience as well," thee tree said with sadness. "Men and elves only. And the ents, of course, but we have not seen them in quite some time..." A strange, wistful hint of longing came into the tree's voice as she said this.

"'We'?" said Olo in shock. "You mean there are more of you?"

"Some, yes. We are not as numerous as once we were, but there are some of us who still watch over and defend the Children of Yavanna."

"I see," said Olo, though of course he did not really see at all. "Um...do you mean to say that all trees can speak?"

"Trees? Trees!? Don't be absurd!" The tree laughed, a rich, broad, booming sound which filled the whole field. "Trees cannot talk! I thought everybody knew that!" She went on chuckling for a long time.

Olo was confused. "Then what...what...well, I mean...aren't you a...a..."

"A what?"

"Well, you know, a tree?"

Once again the tree - or whatever it was - erupted into laughter. "That is the most preposterous proposition I have heard in many, many years, young...what did you say you were again?"

"Oh, well, men call us Little People."

"Hmm...Little People...all people are little to me. But perhaps you are smaller than most...Well, Little Person, I am an Entwife. We Entwives care for and defend the green things of this world: the trees; the plants; the mosses and vegetables and grains...More specifically, I am called Flaxhair. What do your people call you?" She spoke very slowly and ponderously, so all of this took rather a long time.

"I...I am Olo. My people call me Olo."

"Hmm...Olo...that is rather an odd name, isn't it? I have never met any elves or men named Olo before..."

"Well, I suppose it is rather," Olo agreed, not daring to voice aloud his thought that someone named Flaxhair was not really in any sort of position to be making comments about strange names.

"Well, Olo, what is it you are sighing about?"

"I have very little food to take back to my people," he replied.

"Hmm, well, where is your field?"

"My field? I'm afraid I don't understand. This is the field where I come to gather mushrooms and pick berries and find seeds and nuts bt it's hardly _my_ field, is it?"

"No, no, silly Little Person," said Flaxhair amusedly. "I mean the field where you grow your crops."

"Crops?"

"Yes, your vegetables and grains. You know, potatoes and carrots and cauliflower, your wheat and barley and corn. Where do you grow it?"

"I..." Olo stood in silence for a moment, very confused and not a little bewildered. "I'm afraid I don't understand," he repeated after a while. "How exactly does one 'grow' these things? I've never heard of carrots or wheat or corn...are they good to eat?"

"Well, many men eat them, and you seem to be not so very different from a man, just a little shorter is all, with hairier feet and pointier ears. I prefer good soil and rain and sunlight, but then, I am an Entwife, and you are a Little Person," she said with a smile. "It's all quite simple really," she went on. "You simply dig up the earth a little, plant the seeds, and give them plenty of water and sunlight and, if the soil is good and rich, they will grow. And then, when they are ready, you take them out of the earth and eat them. They are Yavanna's creation, her gift to the Children of Iluvatar. And then there are the fruit trees," she went on. "Trees and bushes which bear fruit, each in their season. But I am sure you know about them."

"Yes," remarked Olo faintly. "I know about them, though to grow your own tree isn't something I've ever really thought of...It makes sense, though, I suppose. A never-ending supply of apples and pears and plums..." His stomach grumbled again at the thought, which caused Flaxhair to once again laugh, even louder this time making the birds which nested in her yellow-leaved branches fly away in surprise.

"You are hungry, Little Person," she noted with amusement. "Come, I will show you my ownn field, and perhaps you can eat from there and take food to your people. I do not eat my own crops - I am an Entwife, the very thought is repulsive to me. But I do love to watch them grow..." she said with a fond smile. "Come," she repeated. "I will show you."

"Show me? How?" asked Olo. It was proving to be a very confusing morning.

"I will carry you, of course!" she responded, and to Olo's surprise she uprroted her enormous legs, stepped back, and bowed down for Olo to climb onto her shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, he did so, and together they began their journey across the Brown Lands.


	2. Chapter 2

"So if you are Entwives, are there Enthusbands as well?" Olo asked as they made their way across fields and forests.

"Just Ents, they are called, Little Person," Flaxhair responded with amusement. Then her face grew darker. "The Ents prefer the great and mighty creations of Yavanna - the strong, towering trees, the dense forests, the wild, uncultivated green things. We Entwives are more inclined towards the smaller things - the fruit trees, the grasses, the grains and vegetables and bushes. So the Ents live many miles away, in the great Forests of the North and West, while we have long since wandered here, to the open plains and vast fields of the Brown Lands. We prefer it here. There is space for you to breathe," she explained, and demonstrated this by taking in a large breath, and then expelling it in a huge sigh of satisfaction.

"Well, do you ever meet with them?" asked Olo.

"We used to," Flaxhair replied. "But I have not seen an Ent for many, many years now..." she trailed off. "I think we are too different in temperament to ever really live together. The Ents would never feel comfortable out of their forests, away from their great flocks of large trees, but on the other hand, we could never bring ourselves to leave the open spaces of Arda...so, I doubt that there will ever be much interaction between us. We are both so deeply attached to the land that we do not really have any room to be attached to each other..." Her voice was melancholy and Olo sensed a great sadness in it. "Still, that is the way of things," she continued. "Yavanna's children must be protected and if that is the price we must pay, then so it must be," she concluded resignedly.

Olo was silent for some time, taking in all that the Entwife had said. Eventually, he spoke again: "You are so attached to these crops, the vegetables and grains and grasses...How can you bear to see them cut up and ground and cooked? Does it not sadden you?"

"The plants and trees and bushes are Yavanna's gift to Iluvatar's children - the elves and men and, I assume, Little People," she explained in answer to Olo's confused expression. "They were always intended to be used for food and the other necessities of life...The Ents and Entwives were not made guardians over them to protect them from this fate - it is the natural course of things; they fulfil the purpose of their creation when they are used with wisdom and prudence. We were made Shepherds of the trees and Guardians of the bushes and shrubs and crops to ensure that they are not abused, that the greed and the corruption of Iluvatar's children, or Aule's dwarves, or any other creatures whose lust for industry may drive them to destroy the green things of this world. Ah," she said suddenly. "We have arrived."

Just at that moment, she stepped into a vast field, full of row upon row of vegetables and large areas of grains. It was the most food Olo had ever seen gathered together in one place.

"This is...amazing," he said once he had partially recovered from the shock. "It's beautiful."

"They are rather lovely, aren't they?" Flaxhair said with a proud smile on her face. "Berries and nuts have their uses, but when it comes to proper sustenance, they are not nearly as useful as what you see set before you. Please, take all you need. I have no use for them but to watch them grow."

With a notable sense of awe, Olo began digging up carrots, sprouts, potatoes, beetroots and all the other vegetables conceivable from the vast array he saw spread before him, tasting some as he went. Then he caught sight of the fruit trees and raced over to them, throwing apples, pears and plums into his basket and, when that became full, stuffing them into his pockets. Flaxhair smiled amusedly at his evident sense of wonder. When he had filled his basket, pockets and belly to full capacity, he lay down under an apple tree and sighed contentedly. Life was very good that morning.

After a while, he propped himself up on an elbow and looked at Flaxhair with a serious, thoughtful look on his face. "Could you help us?" he asked earnestly. "Could you show us how to grow these things, teach us how to cultivate them and make food in this way?"

Flaxhair stood silently staring into the distance for some time, fully considering Olo's request. "It would depend on the willingness of your people to accept me and my people," she said at last. "They must be willing to follow our guidance and adapt to new ways. And we cannot do it here. I have long felt a growing evil spreading into these lands, seeping into the earth and corrupting the soil. I would be glad to be rid of it, to wander to new lands with better earth and cleaner soil, and if your people would truly learn of us, it would be better done in a land free from the grasp of the Darkness that slowly begins to sweep this land. It would require great change, a great adjustment on the part of your people, a very different lifestyle...But if they will make the change, I assure you they shall never regret it. True happiness and peace is found in the green things of this world, Little Person. A life lived in harmony with the turning of the seasons, where the trees and bushes and crops in the fields are central to your existence, is one where true joy and peace can always be found, one which is in true harmony with the marvellous creation of Iluvatar. The Children of Yavanna have ever been the most stalwart disturbers of the Kingdom of Morgoth, for they are the only things he cannot bend to his will. They grow and bear fruit and shed leaves and grow leaves all in accordance with nothing but the will of Iluvatar - they recognise no master except Eru, the One, and by His word their seasons are governed. That is why they cannot be ruled by the forces of darkness, not by Morgoth himself nor his lieutenant Sauron who now walks Middle Earth in his stead, deceiving and betraying. Yavanna's children cannot be deceived or governed by him. That is why the Dark Powers have always sought so earnestly to destroy them instead, because they cannot be corrupted from the service of Iluvatar, and because they represent a beauty and an innocence that may be destroyed and stripped from the world, but can never be corrupted to ugliness. Bind yourself to the green things of the world, Little Person Olo, keep them at the centre of your heart, and you may rest assured that the powers of evil will never have you to be their servant. Though you journey into the very heart of fire and darkness, the memory of them will sustain you and strengthen you, giving you hope that there is yet beauty and goodness in this world that cannot be marred by evil's ever-lengthening shadow, no matter how violently and hatefully it rages." Flaxhair's voice had grown gradually more sombre as she spoke, but she suddenly shoook herself and smiled at Olo. "If I can persuade the Entwives to guide you, and if you can persuade your people to accept our guidance, then I believe this arrangement will prove beneficial to both our peoples. But come," she continued. "The day is growing old; your people will be missing you."

Grinning broadly at Flaxhair's acceptance of his proposal, Olo stepped onto her open palm and together they made their return home.


	3. Chapter 3

The Little People were, of course, impressed with Olo's findings. That night they feasted on vegetable soup, savouring every mouthful of the delicious hot broth. When they had all finished, Olo's father demanded of him: "Where did you find this, son?"

Olo was, understandably, uncertain how to respond. What was he to say? 'A big talking tree carried me to a faraway land full of delicious food?' He paused. "Erm...well..."

The people stared at him eagerly with wide eyes, and a few of them nodded encouragingly. Steeling himself for the inevitable looks of scepticism and scoffs of disbelief, he resolutely began his tale.

When he had finished, the first reaction was as he had expected. The majority of the people flatly rejected the possibility of his claims being true. "It is the most ridiculous thing we have ever heard," they said. "We demand that you discipline your son for his lying tongue," some told his father. "That boy's always had his head in the clouds. Talking trees? Not surprising from a boy like him," grumbeld others, despite Olo being one of the most level-headed and reasonable of all the Harfoot lads.

Yet there was one question which incessantly returned to confront those who had at first been so sure that Olo was lying: how to account for the food? There was certainly nowhere anywhere near the camp that held such bounties for the hungry. To obtain food in such abundance, Olo would indeed have had to search far and wide: much farther than he could possibly have travelled in the short time he was gone.

Furthermore, those who knew Olo knew that, whatever some may have said initially in the heat of the incredulous moment, he had always been an honest, serious and level-headed lad. For him to suddenly start inventing wild stories would be most out of character. Some started to suggest theories involving Olo being enchanted or deceived by evil sorcerers, and perhaps the very food itself was an illusion or else laced with magic, but these theories quickly became far willder, more outlandish and unbelievable than even the tale Olo himself insisted upon as the veritable truth. Thus, as time went on, more and more people began to find the idea more credible that this tale, no matter how far-fetched it had at first appeared, was in fact not a complete fabrication.

The question then became: what to do? On the one hand, the Brown Lands and nomadic foraging were the only things the Little People had ever known. This was an important factor for a group so stubborn and resistant to change as the Harfoots. However, on the other hand - and the huge significance of this to the Little People cannot be overstated - there was the food, and a lot of it too.

So it was that the Harfoot clan encountered a dilemma, caught between two equally compelling characteristics of their nature: their intuitive mistrust of anything new, different or unknown; and their passionate love of good food. There were zealous advocates on both sides of the debate, and indeed, so incredibly bitter did the internal quarrel become that it seemed at one point the community would tear itself apart over the question of the 'talking tree folk' (nobody seemed to pay much attention to Olo's insistence that they were called Entwives).

The matter came to a head one day in Winter. The Harfoot who had been sent out to find food for the clan had returned empty-handed and, for the second time that week, the Little People went entirely without food that night. There is nothing that makes the concept of a change in circumstances seem so appealing as an empty stomach. Nobody feels any desire for change if they are satisfied with their current circumstances, and for a Little Person, there is perhaps nothing in life more dissatisfying than hunger. That night, there was likely not a single person in the camp that did not dream of the hot vegetable soup and sweet fruit they had savoured not so very long ago, and as the vivid recollections of the warm, thick liquid coming down their throat to warm their body and fill their bellies flowed their minds, the bitter contrast between their memories and their current situation became all too apparent. In the morning, there were very few who questioned the wisdom of following the Entwives, and those who did objected only half-heartedly and without any strong conviction.

Thus it was that, before the sun had yet reached its zenith in the cold, blue sky, the entire community of Harfoots found themselves walking intently and steadily towards a lonely tree with the intent of holding a conversation with it, feeling a little foolish but also very, very hungry.

Once they arrived, they were slightly unsure how to proceed. Nobody had had much (or any, really) experience talking to trees before, so nobody was entirely certain how one was supposed to strike up a conversation. Eventually, it was decided that Olo, as the only one who had had any dealings with the talking tree folk in the past, should act as their ambassador.

Olo stepped forward, a little uncertainly. He was as clueless as the rest of them as to the actual formalities of starting a conversation with the Entwife - he had certainly not been trying to do so when he first met her.

"Flaxhair?" he asked, hesitantly. There was no response for a little while. Then everyone in the crowd began to gasp as they saw two eyes open, the branches shake wildly and what they thought had been the trunk stand up and split into two thick legs.

"Greetings, Little People," Flaxhair said. "_Very _Little People," she added with raised eyebrows as she took in the full extent of their diminutive stature.

"Hello, Flaxhair!" Olo said with a relieved smile. If you have ever had the pleasure of meeting an Entwife, you will understand why he was the only one to reply. They make quite an impressive sight - not one which is easily recovered from. "My people have given a great deal of thought to your offer. We believe that it would be folly to reject it. If you will be our guides," he said humbly, "then we will follow you wherever you may lead us."

Flaxhair smiled brightly at Olo's words. "I have spoken with the other Entwives also. I went to them immediately after our meeting and called for an Entmoot to be held. I was surprised how quickly my request was granted; it would appear that the others can also feel the darkness which is so rapidly seeping into our soil and polluting our roots. In fact you are lucky not to have missed me: I returned early this morning and was just taking a nap."

"Well, we are truly sorry to have disturbed you, but what was the decision of the Entmoot?" Olo wasn't exactly sure what an 'Entmoot' was, but it sounded important and authoritative and he assumed that its decision counted for something.

"Well, the decision was not unanimous. It does not have to be, but it is generally preferred." She sighed. "The majority of the Entwives are in favour of our arrangement. They have decided to jouney to farther lands and brighter skies. Yet there are some - more than I would like - who have grown too attached to the Brown Lands during our time here. Mainly the elder Entwives. And there are also some who can feel very keenly the corrupting touch of evil in these lands, yet do not feel any inclination to guiding or accompanying anybody to anywhere. They believe that Yavanna appointed us to be Shepherds of Trees, not Guides of Little Folk. Our only allegiance should be to the earth and the plants and the green things we were created to protect." Her brow furrowed, and Olo suspected this argument had caused her to doubt her own resolve more than once over the course of the Entmoot, and probably still did now. "They would rather travel in search of the Ents, in hopes of regaining the joys of the ancient times, when Ent, Entwife and Entling lived together in love - though I doubt such idyllic times ever existed. They will find, I am confident, that Ents and Entwives are not as compatible as they seem to believe. It is ironic, but as time goes on, I am becoming more and more confident that Entwives were never really meant to be wives to Ents. We are wedded to the soil, and we cannot be wedded to each other." Her voice was melancholy and regretful, but also seemingly accepting and resigned.

"So what of the others? What of those who do accept the arrangement?" somebody in the crowd shouted out rather loudly, ruining the sad atmosphere.

Flaxhair cleared her throat. "We will guide you," she said simply. And with that, a smile gradually crept over the face of all that were present - the Harfoots because of the promise of food, but Olo and Flaxhair because, despite knowing each other for only a short time, they had grown somewhat fond of each other, and would have been sad to say goodbye.

"You will see, Olo," said Flaxhair, with a smile on her face. "Time will show that Entwives can be both Shepherds of the Trees _and _Guides of the Little Folk."


End file.
